Cake and Pie
by Kanoi-chan
Summary: Dean Winchester was perfectly content to lead a happy, simple life with his wife Lisa and his step-son Ben, but when Castiel and Meg Novak move in next door that all goes to hell. Destiel with sides of Megstiel and Dean/Lisa
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, if I did, Destiel would have admitted their love already.

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Dean slid his hand into Cas's, their mismatched wedding bands at odds with each other as Dean thrust into the body below him. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck as he took shuddering breaths that hardly seemed to fill his lungs. The gorgeous man below him arched with a guttural moan of pleasure as he climaxed.

"Shit, Cas!" he rasped out, burying his face into the crook of his partner's neck as his own orgasm ripped through him.

As Dean laid there, catching his breath, Castiel began to lazily trace out random shapes on Dean's back.

"Should do this more often," Dean murmured, pressing a kiss into the juncture of Castiel's neck and shoulder.

He felt Cas nod, and his chest constricted.

Finally pulling out and pushing himself up on shaky arms, Dean placed a chaste kiss to Castiel's lips. "We should get cleaned up."

"Of course, Dean," Castiel replied, letting Dean help him up and lead him to the shower.

It was a quick shower, the two men laser-focused on getting clean. They only had so long before Lisa and Ben got home, after all.

It had all started as an accident. Castiel and Meg Novak had moved into the house next door a little over a year ago, and for the first few months, that's all they had been- neighbors.

But then one day, Dean had come in from work to find Meg sitting at his kitchen table with his wife, the two women gossiping away. As much as the neighbor-lady left a bad taste in his mouth, Dean ignored them, figuring it really didn't concern him. Until, of course, later that night when Lisa had suggested he should try to make nice with Meg's husband ("We could have couple friends, Dean." "We have 'couple friends,' Lisa." "Dean, your brother and Jess don't count." "How come?" "Because they live half-way across the country!") And so the Novaks were over at their house that Saturday for dinner.

Dean had to admit that Cas was a lot cooler than he initially thought he'd be, despite the other man's scruffy tax accountant appearance. Sure, the dude was incredibly awkward, and most of Dean's references seemed to go way over his head, but he had a dry sense of humor that Dean could appreciate. After that, Dean and Castiel became quick friends. Dean pointedly tried to ignore Lisa's I-told-you-so grins and Meg's jibes that it was only because no one else was dumb enough to be friends with either of them (seriously, what did Cas see in that bitch?).

Strangely, despite Lisa's initial excitement over having "couple friends", they really didn't all go out together all that much. Instead, Lisa and Meg would have their "girls' days", which would leave Cas and Dean (and occasionally Ben, when he didn't have baseball or wasn't at a friend's house) to hang out and do their own thing.

It had all gone to hell about six months after the Novaks moved in.

Lisa and Meg had run off to some spa for the weekend, and Ben was spending the weekend at a friend's, which left Cas and Dean to their own devices. On Saturday, Dean invited Cas over to watch the game. They'd both ended up drinking way too much. The details to what set it off were fuzzy, but suddenly, Dean found himself kissing Cas. It escalated quickly, nothing romantic about it. It was primal and sloppy, and while they didn't end up having sex that night, it was close enough to be their undoing.

They woke up the next morning, half-naked messes, in Dean and Lisa's bed. Cas had that deer-in-headlights look, spitting out some utter bullshit about needing to get home, righting his clothes, and bolting out of the house.

Dean spent the whole day in misery. He'd fucked up, and now his best friend was avoiding him. The meticulous bastard hadn't even left anything behind in his haste to leave, so it wasn't like Dean could go over there under false pretenses to talk to him.

When Lisa got home that night and asked how his weekend had been, he felt like he was going to throw up as he told her it had been pretty uneventful. He spent the next week being extra sweet to her, trying to assuage his guilt (after all, he did love his wife; he really did). It just ended in Lisa thinking he was sick. It was another week before Lisa caught him off-guard in the kitchen.

He was at the table going over some bills, and she was at the sink, rinsing off dishes, when suddenly she turned off the water and pinned him down with a no-nonsense look.

"Did you and your boyfriend get in a fight or something?"

His stomach dropped at the term, and he looked at her in a panic, sputtering out, "What?"

Lisa quirked an eyebrow. "You okay there?"

Seeing that she looked more concerned than anything, he calmed down. "Yeah, sorry, what were you saying?"

Lisa eyed him skeptically for a moment more before continuing, "You've been acting weird ever since I got back from that spa weekend, and Meg said Castiel's been moping around ever since then too. Did you guys get into a fight?"

"Something like that," he muttered.

"Dean Winchester!" He winced at her angry yell. "You better go fix whatever you did."

Dean shot his wife a betrayed look. "Why do you assume it's my fault?"

Lisa stared hard at him with her arms crossed. "Because I know you."

"Whatever," he grumbled, shifting his attention back to the bills in front of him.

Lisa sighed, moving to sit in the chair next to him. Placing her hand over his, she said more gently, "He's a good friend to you. I just don't want to see you lose that."

Dean stared at her defiantly for a moment before wilting under the sincerity of her gaze. "Fine. I'll talk to him."

Lisa smiled. "Thank you."

That night after dinner, Lisa sent Dean next door and invited Meg over so the two men could speak privately ("I know how you get about 'chick flick moments.")

Dean felt sick to his stomach as Meg let him in as she left. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the sitting room to find Cas sitting pensively on the couch.

"Hey, man," Dean greeted with a strained smile.

Cas looked up at him, and Dean's stomach about jumped out through his throat when those blue eyes met his. "Hello, Dean."

That voice did things to him that he wished it didn't, bringing back memories of Cas groaning his name. Dean swallowed thickly, trying to push those thoughts away.

"So the women folk want us to kiss and make up, huh?" Dean tried to joke, and immediately wanted to kick himself for the wording.

Cas looked away from him, looking more than a little queasy himself. They remained like that, in awkward silence, listening to the clock in the hall tick off the seconds, until Dean thought he would scream.

Dean sank down on the other side of the couch, face buried in his hands. "Damn it, Cas. What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

Castiel stared dispassionately at the wall in front of him. "Perhaps Meg and I should leave."

Dean's head snapped up to stare at Cas with wide eyes.

"Like hell!" he shouted.

Cas stared at him in confusion. "Why are you so angry? I thought this was the most reasonable course of action."

And Dean couldn't come up with an answer. Why was he so angry? He couldn't remember feeling this lost in his whole life. All he knew was that, crazy as it was, he couldn't picture his life without Cas in it now that he knew the man. And so, staring into Cas's confused eyes, Dean did that only thing he could think to do- he kissed him. And he never looked back.

Sure, it was probably going to come back to bite them in the ass one day (they couldn't keep up the secrets forever), but until the day that happened, Dean intended to make the most of every moment they had.

Selfish though it was, he couldn't help wanting to be able to have his cake and eat it too.

* * *

There might, eventually, be more to this verse in the future, but for right now, this is it. I feel like I want to continue it, but I have no concrete ideas yet, so I make no promises.

Also, huge thank you to my beta pharocomics! She helped me significantly clean this up into something I'm a little less scared to post lol.


	2. Chapter 2

This was one of those rare double date nights between the Novaks and Winchesters, and honestly? It catered more to Lisa and Castiel's tastes than anyone else's. They'd gone to some play that Cas and Lisa couldn't stop gushing about, but that Dean had honestly almost fallen asleep through. Now, they were at some ritzy restaurant that Lisa had mentioned wanting to go to, and when Cas had given it rave reviews, that deal was sealed. The evening was all a bit high brow for Dean, though Meg hadn't seemed too thrilled about it either. It should have given him a like-minded companion, but he couldn't stop glaring at her long enough to actually start up a conversation with her.

He hated her. He hated her face. He hated her nasty attitude. He hated her recently-dyed blonde hair that looked absolutely awful. He hated her wedding ring that matched Cas's. He was very sure he just hated everything about her, and it was seriously ruining his night.

He winced as Lisa, yet again, discreetly elbowed him under the table. She was mad at him for his attitude, and he was sure he was going to hear about it when they got home tonight. He was sure he was probably going to be sleeping on the couch for it, too.

Cas was upset with him as well, if the brief, betrayed glances he kept shooting at him were anything to go by.

Throwing his napkin on the table, Dean gruffly announced, "I have to take a leak," before standing and walking towards the bathroom.

"Don't take too long jerking out that frustration," Meg's smooth voice called after him, and he'd never wanted to punch a woman more in his life.

Dean turned the water off, staring at his wet face in the mirror. The bathroom was blessedly empty, which considering Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to be sick or cry, he couldn't have been more thankful for the solitude.

Cas had given him the news a week ago- he and Meg were trying for a baby. It had felt like a punch in the gut to Dean. He couldn't (or didn't want to) explain it. He had no reason to be this upset over it. It wasn't like he had some claim over Cas. Meg was the guy's wife, after all (with her stupid matching wedding ring). Besides, Dean was married himself, had a stepson even. It shouldn't make a damn bit of difference to him if Cas and Meg wanted to have a baby.

But it did.

This thing between him and Cas just kept going, and, if Dean was honest with himself, it was escalating.

He slammed his hands onto the sink counter, feeling completely lost and broken. "Damn it!"

When he heard the door open, he quickly looked up, watching in the mirror as Cas walked in. Dean tensed at the pitying look the other man gave him.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Castiel asked, and he didn't sound angry in the least. No, instead, the bastard sounded so damn patient, and it was setting Dean even more on edge. Was he seriously the only one having a hard time with this fucked up situation they'd gotten themselves into?

Dean let out a hollow laugh, eyes meeting concerned blue in the mirror's reflection.

"What the fuck are we doing, Cas?" he asked, voice almost cracking.

Cas cocked his head to the side, squinting at Dean in confusion. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Damn it, Cas!" Dean shouted, whipping around to face him. "Us! This!" He gestured between the two of them. "What are we doing?"

"You're upset."

"Damn straight, I'm upset!"

"Why?"

Dean stopped at that, looking like a deer caught in headlights, because wasn't that the million dollar question?

The anger melted off his face, replaced by pure weariness, and he pressed a hand to his eyes. "I don't know, Cas. I don't fucking know."

Castiel gently removed the hand from Dean's eyes, and when he still refused to meet his eyes, Cas gently commanded, "Look at me, Dean."

Dean reluctantly looked up, heart skipping a beat at the absolutely beautiful, loving smile on Castiel's face. He swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

Cas placed his hands on either side of Dean's face, thumbs softly caressing his cheek bones.

"I'm not sure what any of this means, either, but I know I don't want to lose it." With that, Cas leaned up and placed a soft kiss on Dean's lips.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, indulging in the stolen moment, enjoying the feel of the smaller man wrapped close to him.

When Cas pulled away, he smiled blissfully at Dean, and Dean couldn't help but meet it with one of his own. And that was when he knew he was royally screwed. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he had fallen for Cas, and, boy, had he fallen hard.

Cas slowly untangled himself from Dean's arms, smile turning ever-so-slightly cheeky.

"We should get back to the table before Meg convinces Lisa that we are both masturbating," he joked.

Dean blanched immediately, causing Cas to laugh (and damn, if the sound didn't send a warm feeling all the way down to Dean's toes).

"Don't worry," Cas reassured him, "Lisa knew something was bothering you. That's why she asked me to come talk to you."

And while Dean knew it should bother him, make him feel guilty that his wife had unwittingly sent his boyfriend (were they boyfriends?) after him, he honestly just felt lucky that he had two people that cared about him so much.

Yes, he was a selfish bastard, and he knew it.

* * *

Thank you to PharoComics for betaing!

This is a little shorter than I'd like, but hopefully the next part will be longer. This plot has run away with me, and I'm super excited to keep working on it :D

Also, was not my intent to put this out on croatoan day, just kind of how it worked out. I should hopefully have a real offering for croatoan day tomorrow or the next day.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sammy!" Dean greeted happily, throwing his arms around his brother who was standing in the doorway.

He gave a couple of heavy pats to Sam's back before pulling away and turning his attention to his brother's very pregnant wife.

"Hey, beautiful! You still tugging this bozo around?" he joked, wrapping her up in a warm hug. Jess rolled her eyes, but smiled and hugged back.

"Haha, Dean, very funny," Sam responded in a voice that meant he found it nothing of the sort. It was even accompanied by Bitch Face No. 5. "You mind letting us in? It's boiling out here."

And oh how right Sam was, the summer sun making it almost unbearable.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." Dean stepped aside, letting the couple in. "Just leave your bags here and I'll take them up in a bit."

"So where are Lisa and Ben?" Jess asked, looking around the small foyer.

"Should be on their way. Lisa had to go get Ben from baseball practice."

Sam quirked a happy, little smile. "Baseball, huh?"

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. Kid's always into something."

"You proud?"

"Damn straight!" Dean clapped a hand onto Sam's shoulder, grinning widely.

Lisa and Ben arrived home about 20 minutes later, Dean already starting to get dinner ready. They spent the evening all catching up, Lisa discussing pregnancy and children with Jessica, while Dean and Sam played video games with Ben.

The next couple of days passed without much event. Dean would come home early to spend time with his brother and sister-in-law, and in the evenings all five of them would share dinner together. It was the most family Dean had had under one roof in several years, and it should have left him wanting for nothing. Instead, there was a giant Cas-shaped hole in him that he had to smile around. It wasn't as though they hadn't gone longer without seeing each other, but they'd barely spoken in the days since Sam and Jess got in, and more than that, it was the feeling of having so many people he loved in one place. It was glaringly obvious that he was missing someone important, and if he hadn't been clued in before that he was head over heels for the guy, he certainly was now. It was terrifying, but with his brother and sister-in-law around twenty-four-seven, he had no time to brood on it.

He felt certain he was going to go crazy, but thankfully his wife was a genius (and how fucked up was that thought in context?). She had come up with the idea of a barbeque on Saturday and inviting Meg and Castiel over ("After all, they may as well be family, right?" And she couldn't know how right she was). When Cas walked into the backyard that afternoon, Dean felt all the tension he had been carrying around melt away. It didn't even matter that his arm was around Meg. It only mattered that he got to see and speak to his best friend again.

Overall, it was a nice day- Jess didn't seem too impressed by Meg (of course, she wasn't going to say anything to Lisa, but Dean could see it in the way she smiled a little too uncomfortably and the distance she kept, and Dean was not above reveling in small victories), and Sam and Cas were getting along great. They bonded over books and ivy league schools and other sophisticated shit that Dean couldn't even begin to join in on, and it eventually started to wear on him. Cas was brilliant, and while he'd known it, he'd certainly never been able to hold a conversation about Nietzsche verses Sartre (what did that even **mean**?). He never would be able to engage Cas in that way, and the thought caused his mood to sour. But he plastered on a smile and muscled through the gathering because being jealous of Meg was fucked up enough, but being jealous of his brother was a whole new level of messed up.

From the looks Sam kept shooting him, he could tell his brother didn't believe for five seconds that he was just all hunky-dory.

With the sun setting, everyone started to wind down, retreating to the living room to keep talking. Dean volunteered to stay outside and clean up ("Hey, someone's gotta do it, and who wants to clean on a Sunday?"). He felt he was rather successfully avoiding everyone until Sam walked out.

"Hey man, what do you say we head out to a bar, shoot some pool?" Sam was trying to play it casual, but Dean wasn't an idiot, even if he wasn't all book smart like Sam and Cas.

He chuckled, tried to make it light and airy, which was stupid because when was Dean Winchester ever light and airy? "What? Just leave the girls? Somehow I doubt they'd be too happy about that."

"Actually, they're the ones saying we should go. Apparently we're 'cramping their style'?" Dean winced. God damn Lisa and Meg and all their autonomy.  
He tried a different tactic. "What about Jess? You really gonna leave her with Meg in there?"

"Yeah, well... Lisa and her are insisting. Besides, Jess can take care of herself. And, really, how bad can Meg honestly be? Cas married her, right?" Seriously? Was Dean the only person who hated the harpy? And what business did Sam have calling him "Cas?" That was Dean's name for him, Lisa barely ever doing it, and Meg just called him Clarence (which was straight-up weird).

Dean threw the rag down on the grill, knowing he'd lost, and getting more and more pissed off about it. "Yeah, fine, we can go. Just let me go change."

So Dean changed into clothes that didn't smell quite so much like a fire pit, kissed his wife goodbye, and then they were off to a bar a couple streets over from the garage he worked at.

It should have been a good night out- beer, his brother, and his best friend. Instead, it was painfully awkward, pretty much all at Dean's fault. He sat in the corner of the booth, all surly and picking at the label of his beer bottle while Sam and Cas exchanged concerned glances.

As the night wore on, it only got more awkward. Sam and Castiel tried to salvage it, and they wound up playing pool. Dean was invited, but he refused, preferring to nurse yet another drink on his own. It earned him a bitch face from Sam and an overly-concerned look from Cas (and that look almost had him feeling bad enough to apologize right then and there).

It was about halfway through the pool game that Dean decided it'd be best if he excused himself before he did something embarrassing (like yell at his brother for touching **_his_** boyfriend, because that would go over so well on all sides). He caught Sam's eye from across the bar and motioned to the door, mouthing _Be right back_. When Sam's response was a suspicious look, Dean improvised, holding up his phone and mouthing _Gotta make a call_. Sam didn't look fully convinced, but it was enough to earn Dean a nod before Sam turned back to his game.

Dean hadn't realized just how much he'd been drinking until he stood up and discovered that his whole world was off kilter (it was no wonder Sam and Cas had looked so concerned and uncomfortable). Still, he pressed on, exiting the bar and sighing in relief to be out in the fresh air. Sure, it was hot and muggy outside, but he felt far less stifled than he had in the bar, than he had all night, if he was honest with himself. He made his way around the corner of the bar, away from the prying eyes of the people milling about, and leaned against the brick wall of the alleyway, letting his eyes slide shut. He let his mind wander, far from the noises of downtown, and he started to become more and more aware of the warm buzz thrumming through his body. He was way beyond tipsy, tottering close to the land of honest-to-god drunk (more like he was already one foot in). Sam would probably have to drive them home. Or Cas. And that was an image that went straight to his dick- Cas behind the wheel of the impala, intense blue eyes focused on the road ahead. God, what Dean wouldn't do to have that intensity focused on him at all times. Or even to have those baby blues rolled to the back of Cas's head in pleasure.

He hadn't even realized he was palming his growing erection through his jeans until Cas's call of "Dean?" snapped him out of his daydream. Dean slid his eyes open lazily, watching as Cas came around the corner into the alley.

Lips pulling up into a lascivious smirk, Dean responded, "Over here, Cas."

Said man's eyes widened minutely before he wandered over, asking, "Are you alright?"

"Sammy send you?" Dean drawled.

Castiel furrowed his brow. "No. I was concerned." His attention was briefly grabbed by Dean running the back of his hand down Cas's arm before he looked back up at Dean, expression utter consternation. "What are you doing?"

Dean's smirk widened as he ran his hand back up Cas's arm, evoking a shiver from the smaller man. "Want to give you road head," he responded glibly before pulling Cas in for a kiss.

Castiel floundered, hands scrabbling against Dean's arms, but not quite managing to dislodge the larger man. However, Dean pulled back at Cas's wordless protests, staring down at him in concern (and was that a hint of rejection that Cas saw?). "What's wrong, Baby?" he asked, like he honestly had no clue just what the problem was, and it was enough to through Cas off his game enough that he couldn't even bristle up in proper agitation.

"You're drunk, Dean," he reasoned instead.

The other man just huffed out a laugh, looking more than a little amused. "Well, yeah. What? You worried I'm gonna regret it in the morning or something? Thought we'd be past all that by now." And then he was amorously nuzzling his nose into the space where Castiel's throat and jaw met.

"We- Anyone could see us, Dean," he argued, but it lacked any real bite as Cas was slowly melting into Dean's affections.

"Let them," Dean purred, pulling back up to his full height and fisting a hand in Castiel's hair, gently guiding the shorter man's face up to look him in the eyes. "Proud to show you off."

Cas felt lightheaded, as if he was the drunk one, as Dean once again pulled him into a kiss. He didn't fight it this time, instead reaching up to wrap his arms around Dean's neck in reciprocation. It seemed to be an adequate green light because next thing he knew, Dean was slamming him against the brick wall, knocking the breath from Cas's lungs, and deepening the kiss. It was all Cas could do just to keep up, Dean unleashing all of his stress and frustrations of the last week into that kiss. It seemed Cas was mostly just along for the ride, and that shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did.

And then Dean was desperately grinding his hips against Cas's, grunting and whining in frustration when it wasn't enough. Cas couldn't help smiling into the kiss, running his hands down the other man's body to rest on Dean's hips and helping to steady and guide the thrusts, and then he was moaning into the kiss too.

"Shit, Cas. Need you. Needed you all week. Missed you." Dean was babbling between kisses, Cas responding with his own litany of "I know" and "I've got you" and "Missed you, too."

With a well placed nip to Dean's bottom lip, Cas gained the upper hand in the exchange, slowing the kiss down to something more languid and dirty as he slid a hand between them to pull down Dean's zipper. Dean let out a wanton moan as Cas freed his dick from the confines of his jeans and boxers, giving a firm tug.

"Why don't you show me how much you missed me?" Cas purred, looking up at Dean through his eyelashes, a dirty little smirk playing on his red, spit-slicked lips.

Dean smirked back. "If that's how you want it, who am I to deny you?" And then he reached down and unzipped Castiel's pants. Cas's eyes rolled back and his head lolled back against the wall when Dean wrapped his fingers around his leaking member, giving him a few quick but skillful strokes. He let out a whine when Dean removed his hand, but then Dean was settling his hands under Cas's rear, giving a firm tap to his rump as he commanded, "Up."

Cas immediately obeyed, jumping and wrapping his legs around Dean's waist, the larger man supporting him against the wall.

Dean leaned in for another mind-meltingly good kiss, tongue tangling with Cas's as he pressed them closer together against the wall, the two of them completely blending into the shadows. When he finally pulled back, Cas was flushed and short of breath.

"Need your hand, Baby," Dean reminded softly, nosing at the hair behind Cas's ear, placing a small kiss to the skin there.

Castiel held his hand up for Dean, moaning as Dean sucked in each digit, one at a time, laving at the skin thoroughly. He watched, enraptured, as Dean traced meaningless trails with his tongue along the palm of his hand. With one final nibble to the pad of Castiel's thumb, he pulled away, watching Cas with dark eyes. "You ready?"

Castiel nodded dumbly, reaching down to wrap his hand as best he could around both his and Dean's cocks. And then Dean slowly started rocking into him as Cas fisted them up and down to the rhythm Dean set, letting out little mewls and gasps of pleasure as Dean lick-bit-kissed every inch of Cas he could reach.

Dean was speeding up, and Cas knew that neither of them would last long like this, breath stuttering out of both of them like the were drowning. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced. And when Dean brushed his lips against his ear to whisper, "Wish I was fucking you against this wall instead," Cas broke, crying out sharply as he came violently, shaking in Dean's arms.

Dean quickly covered Cas's mouth with his own in a heady, open-mouthed kiss, trying to silence him, but with just a few more strokes, Dean was coming himself, biting into Cas's lip hard enough to taste the metallic tang of Cas's blood on his tongue in an attempt to silence his own noises .

They were standing in the alleyway, clinging to each other desperately, trying to force air back into their lungs, still lost in the aftermath of their orgasms, when they heard Sam's enraged, "What the fuck!?"

* * *

Thank you to my wonderful beta, PharoComics, for cleaning this up! She is a glorious individual, and I couldn't do it without her!


	4. Chapter 4

The drive home is unbearable- Sam behind the wheel, staring straight ahead out at the road, silent and seething; Dean in the passenger's seat, light-headed feeling due to booze and a mind-blowing orgasm against a brick wall battling against rising panic at being caught in the act; and Castiel in the backseat, silent and stone-faced, eyes downcast, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. It isn't a long drive from the bar back to Dean's house, twenty minutes tops, but this drive surpasses all the cross-country road trips with his seething father and teenage-angst ridden little brother of his childhood in its awkward badness. The silence is oppressive, the radio not even turned on, as if Sam wants them to stew in the thoughts of their debauchery.

_Little late on that one_, Dean thinks. _Months late, really._ Dean has already had his big gay panic (which was much more a little gay panic because who could get worked up over the inability to say no to those gorgeous blue eyes and soft pink lips?), as well as his guilt over going behind Lisa's back. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that Dean has already had the opportunity to do those things, but simply hadn't been able to muster up the give-a-damn to feel properly guilty about any of it. Things feel right with Cas in ways nothing else ever has. He somehow knows Sam won't understand any of that though. Won't understand how Dean can be in love with someone other than his wife (and he is in love, even if he's never said it to Cas. He'd grown to accept that some time ago).

When they blessedly pull up into Dean's drive way, both his house and Castiel's are dark, sans porch lights left on for when the men return home. They silently exit the car, the slamming of doors loud in the stillness of the night. Cas exits on the passenger's side of the car, not saying a word, though he briefly glances up at Dean, wordlessly conveying his _good night_. Something roars up in Dean at that look, and while he could probably blame the lingering alcohol in his system, he chooses not to.

In a fit of defiance, he grabs Cas's arm, pulling him in close and locking his arms around the smaller man, firmly kissing him right under his brother's burning gaze. He can feel the gasp of surprise Cas lets out, and takes advantage of the opportunity to tangle his tongue against Castiel's.

Cas grips at his arms, swaying unsteadily into the heat of the kiss, and Dean can't help but feel a rush of warm pride run through him that he can elicit that reaction out of someone as normally composed as Castiel Novak. He knows he's being juvenile, trying to piss his brother off more because Sam has no right to judge him, he knows it even as he's threading a hand through Castiel's dark hair, to pull at it slightly, earning him a quiet whimper that he more feels reverberating against his lips than he hears it. He knows he's being wholly reckless, that Lisa could walk out at any moment and see him all but devouring their very male, very married neighbor, knows that even as he's nipping at Castiel's already swollen lips, feeling the man trembling under his hands.

When Sam clears his throat, Dean ignores him, still set on memorizing every flavor of Castiel's mouth like he hasn't done so already. It's only when Sam bites out _"Dean"_ in that dangerous tone that he thinks makes him sound commanding and Dean only thinks makes him sound like even more of a little bitch does he finally pull away from the walking slice of Heaven in his arms.

He feels instantly proud of himself as he admires Cas's swollen, bruising lips, completely wild hair, and glazed-over, lust blown eyes. His heart also flutters into his stomach a little at the look of pure adoration he receives from Cas. Dean offers him a small smile, leaning to press a soft kiss to his temple.

"Night, Cas," he whispers into Cas's hair, reluctant to let go. _I love you_, he thinks shamelessly, the feeling hitting him like a freight train.

Cas offers him a warm, reassuring smile of his own, eyes lighting up with the purity of it. "Good night, Dean."

Dean watches Cas walk across the lawn to his own house, an ache settling in his chest the farther away he is. Loving Castiel like this must surely be a sickness because it's never hurt this much with anyone else.

Once Cas is through the door and the Novaks' porch light goes dark, Dean rounds on Sam. "So, let's hear it."

Sam looks livid, eyes boiling with barely contained rage and condemnation. "What they hell, Dean!?" He's obviously trying to keep his voice down, but the anger carries through.

"'What the hell' what? Gotta be a little more specific here, Sammy." Dean knows he's being a little shit, baiting his brother into a full-on, moose-like rage, but it's suddenly all he feels he has left to do, like maybe Sam's burning anger can fill the cold emptiness left in Castiel's wake.

"Damn it, Dean! You know 'what'! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Having gay sex with my neighbor, Sammy. Do we really need to have _that _talk?" Dean's smirking lazily. It's what Sam had long ago deemed his 'self-depreciating asshole look,' and he hasn't seen it since Dean and Lisa got together.

Sam's expression softens in the face of it, and Dean immediately hates him for it. He doesn't want to be coddled, treated like broken goods over this.

"Dean, how long?" Sam asks it so softly, like all he wants to do it understand, and it's a blow to Dean's everything. Sam's anger he can handle, feels he probably deserves. Someone should punish him over his infidelity, since he seems wont to. But Sam's compassion? Sam's compassion makes him feel like the go-nowhere drop out he was in the years before Lisa. It makes him feel like he's taken all that Lisa gave him, all that purpose and love, and stomped all over it. And then he feels bad for not feeling bad enough.

"Dean..."

"About six or seven months," he whispers, thinking back to that first, clumsy night. It had been all mouths and hands, nothing loving or overly intimate, but it had felt so damn _**real**_ that it had left Dean burning with a want for more. But if he was honest, it had started long before that, before anything physical had ever happened. He'd been drawn to those blue eyes and that comforting smile ever since Lisa first invited the new neighbors over. He'd never been able to get enough of it, always looking forward to the next time he could bask in Castiel's warmth. He had to have known, even then, that on some level this wasn't a friendship like any others he'd ever had, but as he'd never been particularly practiced in healthy friendships, he'd lied to himself easily enough. At least he had until booze had pried his senses.

"I didn't know you were gay," Sam mutters, obviously struggling to grasp at the fact his brother was having an extramarital affair with another man.

Anger swells through Dean at the assumption, at Sam trying to pigeonhole him into some preconceived notion of sexuality and love. "I'm not!" he snaps. Not defensively, but rather in correction.

Sam pulls bitch face number 22. "Dean," he starts slowly, as though coaxing a spooked animal, "you're having an affair with a guy."

Dean glares, feelings of protectiveness he never knew were in him swell up in the face of his brother referring to Cas like he was just any random person on the street. "Not 'a guy'," he corrects, "Cas."

Something comes over Sam's face at that, some sort of cold realization that hardens his face into something Dean can't read. "What about Lisa?"

Dean can't keep up with the litany of emotions coursing through him anymore as he clenches his jaws and fist in tandem. "What about her?"

"Do you still love her?"

"Of course I do!" And that's not a lie. He's loved Lisa as much as he ever has. She's a godsend, his angel on Earth who saved him from the darkest depths of himself. The only problem is, that's somehow seemingly starting to pale in the face of his love for Cas. They're on almost equal footing now, and Dean feels like he's drowning.

"Does she know?"

"No. And don't you dare tell her!"

And then Sam asks the question that is like dousing Dean in cold water. "Does Meg know?"

Dean doesn't have an answer for that. He'd always assumed it was a secret between him and Cas. After all, who cops to cheating on their hot wife with another dude (and yes, he's admitting Meg is hot. He isn't blind, after all. He just hates her personality)? But then he remembers snippets of conversation, jokes that Meg would make at his expense, and looks that she would shoot him when he and Cas would be talking. They'd never been accusatory, though. They were more amused, like Dean and her were in on the same dirty joke. So when the _no_ Dean had been primed to answer with dies on his tongue, Sam gives him a pitying look.

"I think you guys need to talk," is all he says before turning and heading back into the house.

Dean is left standing there wondering if his brother means Lisa or Cas.

* * *

This didn't turn out at all like I initially intended, but I actually like it this way better than I did the initial plan.

Thank you to my wonderful beta, pharocomics!


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